


A Crack On a Mask

by DenLillaStory



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Sauli Koskinen RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenLillaStory/pseuds/DenLillaStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam is a rising star in a theatre field, his future bright ahead of him, and living the best time of his life. It all changes when his parents force him to marry the son of his father’s former business mentor. To keep his freedom he runs away to make his childhood dream come true and joins a circus. Welcomed into the wonderful world of magic and freaks, he tries to find his place in it with the help of an old clown.</p><p>But the grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence, as he is about to find out, when a pair of blue eyes cast their hostile glance on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Please …stay.

The first seconds when the last pleading words spoken slowly fade away to the tick dusty air, the lights still bright on him and he’s not allowed to move, hardly even breathe while waiting for a reaction, a voice, a rustle or any sound at all, nearly makes him faint right there on the stage. Drops of sweat roll down under his dark brown wig to his pale powdered face and his tingling black-lined eyes scream for moisture, but he fights back the urgent to sweep his forehead or close his eye lids. 

Painfully slowly the lights dim down, and when the darkness finally swallows him, he blinks his eyes. But otherwise he doesn’t move.

He still nearly dares to breathe.

Every part of his body is tingling and he is exhausted after being a simple piccolo, who pretends to be a wealthy gentleman past hour and a half, but he has given his all to the audience, he knows that. And now, he is anxious to hear their answer. 

But still it’s quiet. So quiet. 

And his heart drops a bit by bit.

It might be just matter of seconds - which feels like small eternity – when he finally hears it.

A clap.

It is followed by another and then another, until darkness seems to explode to a storm of applause and clapping. 

For a moment it feels unreal and he stares to the darkness with uncertain surprise. But when the lights slowly returns to the whole theatre and he sees now standing audience in front of him, it’s like a weight of a ton disappears on his aching shoulders.

And he smiles in awe.

Shivers go through his body when he lets his eyes wander around the beautiful Victorian theatre hall up to the balcony and back down to the main floor, picking up familiar faces here and there, and he draws in warm air of the room, which smells a mixture of strong perfume, sweat and old dust, but he loves every nuances of it.

This is his world. This is what he has always dreamed of. This is the world he loves.

A gentle touch on his palm startles Adam and he turns his head. His smile spreads even wider when he sees his co-actor, Alice, with her beaming face and eyes full of pride and excitement. He grabs her hand and leads her to the edge of the stage with him.

When they bow to the audience, the noise in the theatre rises to the next level, as does Adam’s adrenal level. It’s like all tiredness had been swept away from his body and replaced with new energy. He could put up a step dance show right there, if only he could do one.

They bask under the audience’s approval and bow multiple times to them, with and without the other actors of the play, until the heavy, red satin curtains finally close in front of them.

Adam lets out a happy cry and he grabs adrenal-shaking Alice into a tight hug. They both laugh uncontrollably, rejoicing over their success while happy tears escape from their eyes. They couldn’t have done it better. Especially on the debut night of their final school project.

Soon they are surrounded by the stage staff that drowns them into compliments. Alice says to them that it’s all because of Adam but that makes Adam just frown, and so he lifts Alice up and introduces her as the queen of the night. 

It’s as much because of her that it’s of him. 

He kisses beaming Alice on her cheek and puts her down when they are ordered to leave, and they walk to the backstage, to the iron spiral stairs which leads down to the basement floor where the dressing rooms are. 

Downstairs they are welcomed by their co-actors – students from their school- and other people who congratulate them and pat their backs, while they try to walk past them on the narrow corridor. Adam cannot help noticing an attitude change in some of them; how they are looking at them like a crown had been placed on their heads. Suddenly a blond haired guy with a wide grin blocks Adam’s way, his eyes full of flirtation and preening himself to him. He grabs Adam’s hand while he pays him well-rehearsed compliments and comes so close that Adam is not sure is it his thigh or something else he hits every time their hand shake goes down. Adam laughs uneasily, thanks him for his compliment and pushes him gently away. But he is beaming ever more now, because this if anything proved him that he has now reached to the next level of the ranking and it gives him a huge ego boost.

He is now a conqueror.

It takes them some more time before Alice closes the door behind them and cool air in their dressing room surrounds them. They welcome it and few minutes they just lean on the cold wall in silence, their eyes closed.

“We did it.” 

Alice’s whisper finally breaks the silence and Adam just hums something for the answer. 

His heart is still thudding fast because of all the excitement and left-out adrenal, and he tries to breathe slow, deep breaths to ease it.

“They loved us, Adam. They loved us.” Alice continues, her voice almost breaking, and that makes Adam open his eyes and turn his body to her side.

He sweeps gently away a single tear on her cheek. 

“Yes, they did.” He smiles at her and strokes her powdered cheek carefully. They still have one more task to do.

“Now, we should be in the dining hall soon. Don’t ruin your make-up.” Adam says cheerfully, gaining yet another smile from Alice, as they sit down on their dressing table to correct their stage make-up and wigs.

It is a tradition in this theatre, the Nelson’s Theatre, one of the finest in the town, to serve a dinner after the premier of a play. All the actors of that particular play wear on their stage costumes and make-ups and go around the tables to socialize, and sometimes even to serve aperitifs or such. The ones with the main roles only visit the main tables to introduce themselves before sitting down to the centre tables; one on a table.

That is Adam’s and Alice’s role today.

There’s a knock on the door and both Adam and Alice turn to look each other. Neither one of them is expecting someone so Adam shouts and invites the knocker in. A smile spread on his face again when he sees a face with a big brown eyes popping out behind the opening door.

“Just wanted to congratulate you guys before our last show.”

There a bit of a humour on his last words, but otherwise Benjamin looks shyly at them, or more to Adam’s direction, and doesn’t step in. But in Adam’s opinion he looks super-cute that way.

Benjamin wears almost same outfit as Adam – black tail coat, a vest and black cotton trousers – but without any extra details or bright colours, and also his make-up is fainter than Adam’s. That way he doesn’t stand out from the stage too much. His role in this play is small, just a statistic, but his dreams are as big as Adam’s. As are his plans.

Adam stands up and motions Benjamin to step in while walking to the door. The dressing room is so small that with a five long steps he stands just in front of him. He pulls Benjamin inside and kicks the door close while he pins him gently against the wall. 

“Well, thank you.” He says over-sweetly, his eyes full of flirtation.

He is rewarded with as equal eyes.

“You’re welcome.”

Behind them Alice has turned around to witness the show to come. She is about to joke to them not to ruin their make-up but she keeps her mouth shut. So instead, she turns her full focus back on the mirror and corrects hers around the eyes. When she’s done, she stands up and walks past the flirting men to the door. She shouts over her shoulder to Adam not to be late from the dinner before she closes the door behind her. 

It’s not like she doesn’t like or care what she just saw. She comes from a highly respected culture family, Binot, with many famous actors, writers and singers to name at. For example, her grandmother’s cousin was the Great Balanchi, the most famous opera singer in this part of the country and probably the most famous gay person too. So she has seen a lot even before entering into the Sir John Reddington’s Theatre School. 

And there, these scenes are every day.

But in general, there are certain untold rules in this world: what you are accepted to be or do. 

Here in the east coast people don’t hang or burn gay people alive - unless they make a crime. They are considered as dear friends, respected and even admired in some occasions. They can live together, love and contract a marriage with certain terms. They don’t get church’s blessing to it though because – well – church is church. But it’s not accepted for them to show off their affection to someone in public. However, to be honest that applies to everybody. Kisses, hugs and sweet love talks should be left to home or to shadow corners. 

It is just the spirit of the time.

But still only certain occupations, like entertainment or artistic jobs, are considered as proper careers for them. Very suitable for those over-emotional human beings, they say. However, there are always rumours about that gay doctor in Washington Avenue or a business man from Willow Heights, but at least they don’t bring it up themselves, so it’s ok. 

Everybody approves, nobody complains. It’s just how life is. 

It’s the spirit of their time.

Just when Alice reaches the main stairs, she suddenly hears her name called. She lifts her head up to see who it was. Her breath hitches, when down the stairs, there comes a breath-taking sight, Mr. James Castle, the living legend of the Reddington, famous for his great acting skills as well for his charm and beauty. 

With enchanting smile on his face he walks to Alice and takes her right hand and kisses it lightly before taking it to his both hands. 

Alice feels how heat rises to her cheeks. 

Mr. Castle congratulates her for excellent acting and asks where Mr. Lambert is so that he can congratulate him too. He seems to get his answer when Alice’s whole face turns red, and before she would start to babble something for an answer, he thanks her and wishes a good evening with his charming smile before he leaves her standing there totally blown-away. Alice stares after him and bites her lips to avoid drooling after him. 

There goes one fine piece of art - and ass. Unfortunately, he is not for hers to have.

She sighs defeated and starts to climb up the stairs. It has always been strange in her opinion that, in the plays, homosexuals are always playing the other part of the lovers. Otherwise, they say, there would be a risk that the actors, who play opposite, would fall in love with each other. And that would be inappropriate. Oh, so indecent.

At least, it is so in these high-class theatres. In smaller ones like street or music theatres, it is not so strict. But they are common people’s place. Not for the richer classes. But that is where Adam is heading to. To the musicals. Where he can sing and act at the same time. Far away from opera or old dusty plays, what his father would like him to do. And far away from his father in general.

A smile plays on Alice’s face when she climbs up the main stairs to the dining hall. She bets Adam will be late from the start by 10 minutes.

She got it close, but it’s thanks to Benjamin, whose duty is to serve drinks, that Adam shows up tip-top just in time to be handed the last glass of champagne. Mr. Frederik Reddington, the principal of their theatre school, raises his glass first and thanks formally the whole cast for the high-class performance, and then especially Mr. Herman Nelson for lending his theatre and staff for students’ final projects, and finally the writer and the director of the play Mr. Samuelsson and the stars of the night Mr. Lambert and Miss Binot, who are standing next to him. Adam and Alice nod politely towards Mr. Reddington during his compliments like they should in a situation like that; modestly, not standing out too much. Then everybody take a sip of their champagne, except Mr. Morris, whose glass is almost empty before Mr. Samuelsson raises the glass in turn. He is no-way formal in his speech and grabs Alice into a half-sided bear hug while raising his glass towards Adam. He says how he enjoyed working with these two talented young actors and how unbelievable professionally they both have worked from the beginning. When Mr. Samuelsson says professionally, shares Adam s a sarcastic side-look with Alice. They do remember all those times when he shouted to them, his face red, cursing the hell out of him in the play rehearsals. 

Say it enjoyable if you like.

They raise their glasses again when the speech finally ends and then the guests are guided to sit on their tables and the actors start their tourney.

Almost forty minutes later Adam and Alice have toured all the main tables and they are allowed to sit down on their own. Adam politely leads Alice to her table and draws her chair out for her to sit down. The table is full of culture people, including Alice’s parents, and he chats with them cheerfully and with ease. To be honest he would like to stay longer, but when his table is served, he is forced to wish them all a good evening and go to his own table.

To the so-called finance table - may Lord be merciful for his soul next hour. 

He walks as slowly as he dares to, and then bows and greets politely everybody before he sits down between Mrs. Nelson and young Mr. Wilkinson.

“Well, there comes the star of the night. Son. I’m so proud of you.”

But proud is far away from his father’s eyes, and Adam knows he is not satisfied that he stayed in the Alice’s table so long. It annoys him. It’s his big night and all his father is thinking about is his businesses. But to be honest he doesn’t give a shit what he is thinking about him right now, even Adam knows he should, and to keep the facade he gives him a polite nod with a smile and turns to his mother. And all the growing angst inside of him melts away right then. Because the way his mother is looking at him, full of honest pride, warms his heart and he would burst into happy tears and hug her if that would be appropriate. Instead he smiles and mouths ‘love you’ to her.

“And proud you should be, Eber.” 

Mr. Gerald Wilkinson, the third richest man in the state and the owner of multiple theatres, and who had dominated the conversation on the table so far, leans over Mrs. Nelson and pats Adam on his shoulder. It’s against all the good table manners, but everything is ok for Mr. Wilkinson. 

“He is a gold piece, your son I mean. Remember me saying that.”

His father keeps his impression cool but his eyes soften when Mr. Wilkinson continues praising his son and Alice, and Adam stares at him because he wants to draw this moment into his mind so that he won’t ever forget it.

“I agree with you, Gerald. No father can be more proud than me tonight.”

And there it is. The honest words he had been hungry for to hear the whole evening. And even though, his father doesn’t even talk to him or look at him, he basks under his appraisal.

He is sure he could faint from happiness right there.

Mr. Wilkinson laughs heartfully and shares then his analyse over the whole play to everyone on the table. He is a good speaker and has a very charismatic voice so everybody listen him, except Adam, who is still in his happy dream world. He needs to thank Mr. Wilkinson, Adam thinks. He has been their family friend for years, and his father’s old business mentor who introduced him to the right people. They own much to him and it’s mainly thanks to him that Adam was able to enter to Reddington, even he doesn’t like to admit it. 

But he likes Mr. Wilkinson.

Once again Mr. Wilkinson turns his focus on Adam, but Adam is ten seconds late to notice it, which makes his father scowl to him. He blushes little from embarrassment and looks apologetically at Mr. Wilkinson but the old man didn’t seem to even notice.

“You have come a long way from that singing news paper boy to the star of the evening,” Mr. Wilkinson says his voice full of admiration and leans towards Adam.

” You should be proud of yourself, Adam. Really should.” 

Then he rises up again and states in a way that whole hall must hear him, “I think every student should spend at least a week in High Street. If you can get yourself heard over that hellish buzzing and yelling, then you get yourself heard even to the back row in the Sullivan Opera.”

“Or at least this old Yankee thinks so,” he continues after a small pause and winks to Adam.

Adam cannot help liking Mr. Wilkinson even more right then.

Someone taps a glass and they all turn they heads towards Mrs. Nelson. She points at Adam with her open hand.

“May I suggest a toast to our young talent?” she asks, glancing at the people around the table. Everybody agrees and raises their glasses with her and salutes Adam.

“To Adam,” Mrs. Nelson says clear-voiced, while looking at him at same time. “May the stars be on your side in the future too.” 

Then they all take a sip of their wine, except Adam who thanks them sheepishly, pleased for such an honour.

“Don’t be so modest.” Mr. Wilkinson laughs before turning his focus on his glass. “Mmmm…Damn good wine, Herman. You know, it’s not about…”

And the conversation drifts back to business.

Few moments Adam successfully ignores it and lives his glory moment over and over again in his head but too soon he remembers why he in the first place hated this table. After necessary praises, it’s been just talking about business, politics and meaningless upper-class problems. He finishes his meal and sights, while he steals envy glances at Alice’s table. They are having very animated discussion there but he cannot hear properly over which subject. But it must be way more interesting than dollar policy and the Square Deal.

He hears rustle and feels someone’s touch on his left arm. Mr. Wilkinson’s son, Aldred, has moved his chair nearer his and is now leaning on him so close that all can smell is his expensive cologne he had put too much on. Adam fights the urge to gag and push the other man further away.

“I thought you were great too, Ginger. So handsome,” Aldred whispers cooingly to his ear, almost licking it, and Adam’s inner battle comes almost unbearable,

He hates the nickname Ginger. But more he dislikes Aldred.

“Call me Dani.” He mutters and puts a smile on his face when his father turns his eyes towards him. He seems to be pleased what he sees as he gives him a nod of approval and then continues talking about news in oil markets.

Aldred glues on him tighter, now sweet talking to him like they were lovers and Adam would like to stand up and shout to the whole hall that is not the case. But he can’t. Because Aldred is Mr. Wilkinson’s son and he cannot dishonour him, or especially his own father. So he is forced to act like he cared what Aldred is saying to him, looking interested, enjoying his time, even though, he is screaming inside.

He loves acting but not like this.

Adam glances quickly Aldred again. He is almost like mini-version of him with his short, well-cut strawberry blond hair and face full of freckles, powder hiding his own ones. But there’s something in his look he doesn’t like. Maybe the eyes are too small, the nose too big, the body too thin or something else but everything is just a big maybe. There’s nothing you couldn’t point out and say that’s the reason. He is in every way even but still there is something that bothers the eye when you look at him.

Maybe that’s why he usually played the parts of humoristic stand-byer in his time in the theatre school.

And then Aldred opens his mouth and answers to Mrs. Nelson’s question about the play he produced in Wallis&Hardy’s and Adam remembers again.

It’s his voice.

There is this whistling side note in it which makes you burst into laugh when you hear it for the first time. Then it just simply turns irritating. Adam cannot understand how his parents cope with it, but in other hand, they probably don’t see it irritating at all. They have lived with it.

Even after 6 years he still cannot stand it.

“Some more wine?”

In a split of a second Adam’s mood does an about-turn and a true smile spreads on his forced happy face when he hears a familiar voice.

“Yes, please.” He says a bit too eagerly to Benjamin, and winks to him. The boy’s cheek turn pink and he pours wine to his glass while the corner of his mouth twitches a little when he tries to stay cool. That makes Adam almost laugh.

Benjamin steals a glance at Adam, his eyes giving the message he cannot say in public before he moves to Aldred. 

Adam smiles contented and hides it quickly when he feels his father’s eyes on him again.

“Hmp. No, thank you.” Aldred says arrogantly instead, not hiding his jealousy over Adam and dislike towards Benjamin in anyway. Benjamin’s eyes stir a bit but he keeps his cool, nods and moves to serve the others on the table.

“How can they let him serve here?” Aldred whispers indignant to Adam when Benjamin has left. Adam looks at him surprised and hushes him to be quiet. But doing that he draws himself into the conversation and he realises it too late.

“Did you know he lives next to the Red Lambs, in Fredsville? Filthy slum. That’s like way worse than Soap Town. You can smell it from him.” Aldred shakes his head in disgust. “And he’s sister is a …”  
He leans nearer to Adam and mounts word whore as quietly as possible to his ears while glancing quickly towards his mother, Mrs. Wilkinson, who is looking at them a bit suspiciously. 

When her focus turns to Benjamin and wine, Aldred continues,

“They are trash. And won’t ever be anything else. It’s in their blood.”

The words send cold shivers down Adam’s back and bring up anger. It’s outrageous to say something like that. He is sure that Benjamin could hear all what Aldred said to him, but he bites his tongue and stays quiet. And it’s killing him inside. But he just cannot stand up and defend Benjamin, even he knows his story. He knows his background too well. But under the supervising eyes, he is too afraid to say anything or he might offend Mr. Wilkinson and ruin his father’s businesses. So he instead stares after leaving Benjamin, while Aldred answers to his mother’s question, and hopes he is wrong.

But he knows he isn’t; Benjamin doesn’t turn around to look at him.

Adam sights defeated.

In this beautiful dining hall, under the crystal chandelier, there is a small area which presents his life outside this paradise, his world of dream.

The real world he lives in.

The world he hates so much.

The world he is going leave behind one day.

********

Five days and two plays later and still Benjamin has not turned to look at Adam. Moreover he tries everything to stay away from him, even in the school. Alice insists it is not about what he thinks of, that Benjamin still casts longing looks after him, but how could he tell if she is right. The best he gets to see is his quick profile just before he turns his head and walks away.

He shouldn’t be so upset about the situation. They weren’t even a real couple yet, but it was Benjamin who took the first big step towards it by coming to his dressing room on the premier night. Before that they had only talked and exchanged glances towards each others during this semester. And if he turns his head away from Adam now, there are others, like that blond guy, who turn their eyes at him instead.

But there isn’t a hint of true feelings in their eyes.

“Open your chest, Adam! Breathe.”

The command wakes him up from his thoughts and he pushes his back forward by instinct to correct his position. He feels strong hands on his shoulders.

“Too much! Relax. Relax,” the voice behind him gently demands him while the hands press his shoulders down until he feels like he’s growing a few extra inches. 

“Good. Now. Let the voice tell you its boundaries.”

And next Mamma Mia Moos come out stronger and clearer while he repeatedly sings his voice opening mantra. He hears an approving hum behind him. The hands have moved down and are now ghosting around his hips. It feels a little awkward, and he is not sure what he is supposed to do, so he moves them a bit. 

“Good. Very good.”

A moment later he sees Mr. Lawrence Dalton, their young voice instructors, from the corner of his eyes when he starts to circle him, evaluating him at the same time. He’s been under his appraising eyes since midday to receive critics and advises how to improve his performance as today is his big day.

Today he gets his grade from this play, his final project in the theatre school.

Mr. Dalton does a couple more rounds before he leans on the wall, his arms crossed, and stares straight at Adam with his clear green eyes. It intimidates Adam a bit, but still, he is happy that he has him for help. Alice instead is in the other room with Mrs. Wolfenstein, “The Neck Breaker”, who is a strict old-school teacher. He can even now hear her high soprano voice from the other end of the corridor. 

“You’re troubled?”

Immediately Adam stops his mantra and shots his eyes on Mr. Dalton. How could he see it? 

“You know it sounds in your voice if you worry about something;” Mr. Dalton answers to his unspoken question, “So cut the grab out. What’s bothering you?”

Adam shakes his head and lowers his glance.

“Nothing,” he mutters quietly, but still a corner of his lips curves a little. One reason he likes Mr. Dalton is that he doesn’t beat around the bush. 

“Liar.”

Adam sights but decides he is not going to open up about his problems.

“Mr. Dalton, I’m…”

Mr. Dalton coughs and points his forefinger up to shut him up.

“Mr. Lambert,” He raps out, slightly over-dramatically so that his curly brown hair sways with the moves of his head. “As long as I’m standing in this room, I’m the Law here,” 

A humorous smile plays on his face now and a chuckle escapes from Adam’s lips. The atmosphere in the room, as Adam’s mood, lightens up a bit.

“ Girl problems, perhaps?” Law asks suddenly and Adam casts a disbelieving gaze under his brows at him.

The man just grins to him.

“One knows his own kind, but you can never be too sure.” He says in passing while he springs to his feet and walks to Adam. He places his hands on Adam’s shoulders and waits that he looks at him.

“Forget him, whoever he is,” he tells him.” If he cannot recognize a gold piece from a pile of cat gold, he is not worth a tear. You might find a new love sooner than you think.”

He pauses for a moment but continues then more serious. “But beware of those gold diggers. Especially we with money need to evaluate our lovers twice more than others.” 

Adam cannot help but cringing to his words. Law inherited his money just two years ago when his great-uncle died in a horse-cart accident near Framingham. Before it, he had lived in a rent room in New York and worked as a private singing and music teacher.

But then, his own family was broke almost two generations.

“Just forget him. Ok?” 

Law gives a light shake to Adam’s shoulders and smiles friendly. But then his teacher mode kicks back in.

“You need to focus, Dani,” he emphasizes gently and deepens his gaze. “Today is the evaluation day, remember? You want to do your best. Ok?”

Adam nods even he is more nervous than he was a minute ago. Mr. Dalton gives him an encouraging smile and leans on him.

“I know I shouldn’t say this,” he whispers in a conspiracy, “but there are some theatre critics to whom you want show your talent. Understand?”

Adam nods again, even thought, the butterflies have now invaded his stomach. He fights the urge to puke.

Law gives him a sympathetic look.

“You’ll do just fine. Just relax and let it all just flow out of you.”

Then he gives Adam the last instructions and tips before he wishes him to break a leg and closes the dressing room door.

Adam sights deeply and collapses on the chair in front of his dressing table. He stares his image on the mirror. 

To be honest, he doesn’t feel any better. He still feels awful. His life is awful.

So he buries his face to his hands to hide from it.

Hardly a minute has past when he hears a knock on the door. He lifts his head up, and assuming that it’s Mr. Dalton, he stands up and walks to the door. He opens it and is about to ask if he forgot something when the words get stuck on his throat.

There is a living Greek god standing in front of him. 

Mr. James Castle.

Momentary, Adam’s lungs forget the concept of breathing.

“Can I come in?”

Adam stares at him a few seconds before the question registers into his head and he nods frantically. Mr. Castle steps in and Adam peeps out to the corridor to check if there is anyone else there and closes quickly the door. He twirls around and leans on it.

He is sure that he is dreaming.

“Mr. Castle, this is an hon...”

His voice drifts away when the god in man’s body turns his head and casts his bright, light grey eyes on him, and Adam loses again the control of his tongue.

“Just call me James.”

Anyone can say that ever so casually, but never so charged as Mr. Castle can. In a way which makes your whole body tingle and think that you’re the only one to whom he reveals his true name. 

Only for you. Just for you.

And what about those eyes then. Those enchanted grey orbits which let you drown into them before they capture your poor soul and declare it as theirs. 

Just before Adam is falling over the ridge into the eternal damnation, Mr. Castle turns his eyes away from him, takes off his high hat uncovering his shiny, dark brown hair and places it on the dressing table. The sudden lost of that intense contact leaves Adam feel empty and desperately thirsty for more. He straightens up, but he doesn’t need to take a step, because Mr. Castle has laid his eyes on him again.

“I think I have been in this room once. Maybe” he says more to himself than to Adam, a mysterious, seductive smile playing on his elegant face.

“You know, Adam. I was looking for you on your premier night, but heard that you were…busy.” 

Adam blushes. But seeing how Mr. Castle articulates his every word perfectly, only emphasizing the last word a bit softer, moving his full lips sensually, and he cannot help but lick his own. 

All this Mr. Castle has done with great ease, so naturally, that Adam would envy him if he wasn’t too busy adoring the man. Since he saw him playing Casanova in Royal Park Theatre five years ago, he has been a part of his wet dreams. But he also set a goal himself to be like him one day. And now, his idol is standing in front of him and saying his name. His own freaking name!

Can anyone ask for more?

Mr. Castle tilts his head and eyes Adam from top to toe. Being a little shorter than the younger man he needs to lift up his chin a bit. But still he fills the whole room with his charisma, making Adam feel smaller in front of him. By instinct he straightens his back and pulls in his stomach.

“So pretty,” Mr. Castle speaks to himself again and then shots his eyes at Adam’s. “But so easy. Pity. You take me away the enjoyment of seduction.”

Then suddenly all the flirtation is gone in him and his face lines sharpens.

“I’m here to help you.”

The change happens so quickly that Adam needs to shake his head mentally to clear his mind. He is confused. First Mr. Castle flirts and now he offers his help. And when Adam asks him about it he only gets a chuckle as an answer.

“Oh, I think you do know why but doesn’t yet understand it.”

And to be honest Adam doesn’t. Mr. Dalton didn’t say anything about Mr. Castle. He doesn’t mind though that he is there – not at all – but maybe he is there by mistake.

“Law was already here and he…”

“Law?” the man interrupts him, his eye brow raised. A moment later an amused smile spreads on his face and he lets out a little laugh.

“Well, Law-rence knows how to fix your voice. But I know how to fix the source of it.”

Then he turns on his heels and takes few small steps towards Adam and stops so close from him that Adam can smell musk and vanilla.

It’s toxicating.

“But he is wrong about one thing – do not forget him. Not just yet.”

Adam’s eyes opens wide and he is about to ask how he knows about what he and Mr. Dalton had spoken about just few moments ago but Mr. Castle is not finished yet.

“You should use him, consume him. The feelings, Adam. You feel something now, right? Sadness? Frustration? He is ignoring you even you try to reach for him? Remember that feeling! Taste it. Process it. On your last act, when Miss Flowerfield is walking away from you, remember how it feels when you are desperately trying to reach for him, even you know it’s too late, but you still try. And under that desperation you are angry to yourself for messing everything up but also angry to him that he doesn’t give you a change to even apologise And when you nail it, you take notice of it and bear it in your mind, because now you know how to do it.” 

“And then…” he waves his hand in the air,”…you cut the cord and move on.”

It makes sense in one way but it still sounds a bit harsh to Adam’s opinion. It’s not like him to use other people for his own benefit.

“But I liked him. And I hurt him.” he whines instead. He’s surprised how his voice sounds like he is ashamed to say that and lowers his head quickly, when he feels those Mr. Castle’s judging eyes boring into him. He bites his lip and curses himself. He is not making a very good impression to his idol here. 

Suddenly long fingers take a hold of his chin and lift it up a little so that he is forced to meet those irresistible eyes again. 

“But then he learns something too,” Mr. Castle says gently, to Adam’s big surprise, while his thumb strokes Adam’s chin line and cheek. His skin burns under his skilful touch and shivers go through Adam’s body. He closes his eyes briefly and tries to breathe in. He would like to touch the other man’s slender body, feel is smooth skin under his fingertips, but he’s not sure is he allowed and he is not going to ruin the moment. It’s a weird mixture of sweet torture and pleasure.

“If he is wise enough.” 

The tone of Mr. Castle’s voice is ticker now as it demands Adam’s full attention.

“You know, we learn when we feel,” he says, while his fingers keep on caressing Adam’s face. “And when life kicks us out of the cliff and dares to laugh when we fall, we either learn from it and hit the bottom or we keep on falling until we don’t even feel we’re doing it. It’s your choice. And how can you have passion if you have killed all your feelings? We can build up our passion only when we really feel. We actors need it, the passion, to make us visible to everybody. You have the courage to show and share it; don’t bury it under your precious self-pity.”

Adam groans when the hand moves under his chin to his shoulder. But Mr. Castle ignores it. 

“You are an actor, Adam,” he preaches to him, his eyes flaming now and his left hand waving wildly in the air. “You should share your feelings, your passion to the audience of hundreds, not just to a one pretty boy. Otherwise you’re doomed.” 

“Love always kills the passion in the end.” He says a moment later, a hint of sadness in his voice, but then his voice rises again. “So my young friend, don’t be the moth yourself. Be the flame! Don’t conquer, submit! Make them love you, need you, want you – lust you! “

“Do that and you have the whole audience on your feet. Do that and I promise you, I will reward you afterwards,” 

Mr. Castle’s eyes darken when he says the last part, and all of sudden, those hypnotized orbits are just a couple inches away from Adam’s. He can feel his warm breath on his face.

“But now…let me taste those cherry lips of yours,” he whispers against Adam’s lips, sweet lust lacing his tone before Adam’s whole world explodes.

*****

How wrong he was back then.

They could do it better. And sure they did it today.

His spine still tingles when he remembers the reception of the audience. The shouts. The applause. The faces of his teachers. The eyes of the critics which were glued on him even the impression on their faces still looked like they had just drunk a glass of sour milk. 

He nailed it on the most important day of his live.

After the bows Mr. Samuelsson had run to the stage and hugged him, appraising him from earth to heaven. I want you to my next play, he had said, he’s gonna write a one, soon. Alice had been in awe, saying that she almost burst into tears herself on the last act, when Adam’s character pleads hers to say. And many more came to say that it was the best performance they had seen during their school time. Like ever. 

Even Benjamin had looked at him today. But this time he instead had turned his eyes away from him.

Lawrence Dalton had also come to him, congratulated him and said that he’s happy he had listened to his advices. The love part too.

But for real, all this was thanks to Mr. Castle.

He’s still giddy with joy when he thinks the moment he returned to his dressing room. First he had been disappointed because it was empty, but then he had seen the red rose and an envelope.

It was titillating to open it and read the message. An invitation. To watch his play, to eat a dinner in his apartment and then...

His blood is raising and heart is thudding from the thought, and he bites his hand to not to scream.

It’s something unbelievable. So unreal that he sinks his teeth a bit deeper, that it almost hurts him, so that he knows he is really awake.

It feels like a dream.

But it’s real.

But for a check he walks to his side-board and pulls out the upper drawer. Under the pile of shirts he fishes the creased envelope and takes the invitation card out.

It’s still there. In black and white. And the heat rises to his cheeks and his whole body tingles like there would be fire ants swarming under his skin. 

He’s Mr. Castle’s lover.

Lover, he whispers to himself. How sweet that sounds to his ears.

But it’s not true and he knows it. He’s only a toy for him. He knows his reputation. But when he repeats the text on the card over and over again, he comes blind to that fact. And who cares – he will be soon feeling Mr. Castle’s skilful fingers somewhere else than on his face.

Suddenly, he wakes up from his dream world and glances at the table clock on his night stand.

It’s already over 7 o’clock!

Adam quickly hides the card and the envelope back to the drawer, runs to his mirror to check that he looks ok and leaves his room.

Downstairs he stops right behind the corner from the dining room to still his raising heart. He needs to calm down. He just cannot show to his father his excitement. He needs really to calm down.

He slow deep breaths and tries to think everything else but the card and the invitation and…

And he fails miserably. 

Few minutes later he feels enough ready to face his parents, so he straightens his shirt before finally stepping into the dining room, where his parents are already eating the meal Mrs. Sedwig, their housekeeper, has made for them. 

His mother greets him happily and he goes to her and kisses her on a cheek as good sons do. Then he sits down, between her and his father.

The soup is cooled, but still warm, when he takes the first spoonful of it. He glances quickly at his father, who is reading some papers while he eats. If he is lucky, they might eat this dinner in silence.

But then his father lifts his head up and Adam frowns. Of course his father had to hear his silent thoughts.

“Well?”

It takes him few seconds to understand his father’s question.

“Oh. The evaluation. It went fine. I think I pass.” He breaks his slice of bread and stuffs a piece in his mouth so that he has a good reason not to continue talking.

For once that doesn’t seem to bother his father.

“I’m sure you did.” His father says instead, with a smile, and that makes Adam wonders what has got in to him. Suddenly he seems to be in a too good mood.

“I said to your mother not to go to the theatre or there would be air loss when you two hyperventilate there,” his father laughs and his mother shots daggers at her husband. But they are heart-shaped, with dull spikes.

The conversation stays short and soon they continue to eat their soups. But if Adam thinks surprises are over for tonight, he is wrong.

“Oh, and by the way son. We have delightful news for you.”

Adam stops his spoon in the midway and lifts up his eyes with a questioning look. This meal is keep getting even weirder a minute by a minute.

“Your mother and I…” His father clears his throat and glances quickly at his mother, who is now smiling even happier. “We have been thinking about your future - how we will secure your livelihood. You see, I had a nice chat with Mr. Wilkinson – he highly respects you and he brought this up - over the bridge game last week. About you and young mister Wilkinson. You two seem to get along quite well, I see.” 

Quite well indeed Adam scoffs, shivering from the mention of Aldred but keeps his thoughts to himself. He is not sure he likes the shade of this conversation. And for sure he doesn’t like that wink his father just gave him!

He lets his father continue and takes a spoonful of soup to shake away that awkward image.

“Then you will be pleased to know that we came to conclusion that you would make a perfect couple. You already know each other so there’s no need for any introductions so we put the works to start. Your engagement will be announced after our lawyers have read your marital agreement. It is then up to you two when the wedding party will be held. I suggest the next autumn."

The silence falls back to the room but is broken by a clang as Adam’s spoon hits the plate spilling warm soup to his clean shirt and the table cloth. His hand hangs still in the air and his eyes and mouth have popped wide open from the shock. He stares at his father who continues to eat his soup like he hadn’t just said that he was going to ruin his son’s life. Like forever. His mother instead watches him a bit concerned, but behind her gentle glance, there’s a hint of a warning. If he does not fish his spoon from the plate and wipe it clean as his shirt and the table cloth, she needs to say something and that would mean his father would lift his eyes and the hell would get loose. But she knows her son the best and she knows that even how hard she tries she cannot prevent it what is going to happen.

As always she is right.

Too soon Adam blinks his eyes and gains his tongue back.

“What?”

His voice is nothing but a mouse’s squeak but it’s enough to wake his father’s attention. And when his father lifts his eyes from the plate, there’s not a hint of fatherly love in them anymore,

“What, Adam? No thank you that we have secured your future? No thank you that we found you a young and decent man to live with? No thank you that you only have to focus on having fun and acting while your mother and I try to think a step ahead for you”

“But I don’t love him,” Adam shouts angrily but right then his father bangs his fist on the table so forcefully that more soup spill over everybody’s plates. This time his mother doesn’t give a reproaching look as her table cloth is totally ruined now, instead, she lowers her head and stares at her fingers on her lap. There wouldn’t be any point in it. Not while his husbands flaming eyes casts a dangerous gaze on their son. 

Adam swallows hard. He hasn’t seen his father this intimidated for a long time.

“Love him?” his father hisses angrily. “Damn, son, you don’t need to. You will learn to love him in a way or another. Like the Great Balanchi and master Kowalski - you remember them?! Despite all their public fights and ill-talks Kowalski couldn’t leave from Balanchi’s deathbed. He died two days later and was found lying on his fiancé’s old bed. If that doesn’t prove my point then what does?”

“And this is not just about you, son. It’s about securing our family’s future, form an alliance with the family so powerful and rich that we don’t ever need to be afraid that we end up back to the Brick Hells. Or do you want that?”

Forming tears prickle Adam’s eyes but he shakes his head. His father’s gaze softens a bit but still his face is red and eyes flame from anger.

“And if you want to have fun with your fan-boys,” he spats, “like Mr. Pryce, even though he won’t be our trouble anymore, then remember this. You won’t do anything that would jeopardise this agreement. You understand? If you can keep it as secret, which I highly doubt, then fine .But not until the agreement is concluded and the engagement is official.”

If Adam have had food on his mouth, he would have choked to it right then. Now instead, he nearly chokes to the lump he was just about to swallow.

“As you see, Adam. You are not invisible or clever as you think you are,” his father gives him a look, which makes hair on Adam’s back rise, and continues,

“Now. Eat your dinner. Mrs. Sedwig would not be pleased if you let it totally cool down.”

And with that, his father means that the discussion is over.

And his life, Adam cannot help thinking, even though, his shocked mind is still speculating how much his father knows about his doings in the school and in the theatre. It now suddenly makes sense to him why Benjamin has avoided him. And it just makes him sad and angry at the same time.

How could he ever have feelings for somebody who doesn’t want to take the risk to love him?

 

**** 

 

The rest of the dinner is just a big play, where everybody is pretending they are having their normal seven o’clock meal, when it is everything else than that.

It’s probably the most torturing forty minutes in Adam’s life but he forces himself to smile to mask the pain in his heart, and laughs at his mother’s rumours from the women’s club to conceal the tears in his eyes. And when he finally closes the door of his room, he breaks down. 

A while later he leans over the bowl of water on his washing table. Tears still fall down on his cheeks, but he cannot stop them. The feeling of betrayal hurts his heart.

How could they? How could his parents do that when it’s his life – damn his own life – they are talking about. He is too young to such commitments. He still wants to live and love, especially, without Aldred.

He hates him and all what he presents more than ever now.

But under the unspoken law of their class, he is too young and poor to rule about his own life.  
But marriage. It’s eternal. Divorces – they are unacceptable. You lose your reputation if you divorce. So if…or when he signs the agreement, it will lock him in a prison of a life time.

With Aldred.

But if he says no, he’s father might lose a big ally and business partner.

And that could destroy his family’s future.

Adam takes a deep breath before he cups cool water to his hands. To ease the ache on his eyes he throws the water to his face but it doesn’t help to wash away the feel of despair inside of him.

He’s trapped. 

From the corner of his eye he can see how bars appear on the windows of his bedroom and the room darkens. He almost shudders when he hears an invisible key moving in the lock of his door and then the loud click.

Now he is jailed. Without any freedom of any kind. And it’s hard to breathe suddenly.

He rubs his throat, feeling a lease tighten around it, making breathing more difficult very passing second. 

He gasps for air now, painting heavily but still he can’t breathe. His ears are already buzzing and skin tingling and he looks around wildly for an escape from his hell. So he runs to the windows and pounds one of them but it doesn’t open. He tries little harder but still it doesn’t open. A second before he is ready to hit his fist through the glass, the handle moves and the window opens up a bit, relieving fresh air to the room. He slams it full open and leans over the window bed.

His lungs welcome fresh air, and in a second, everything around him returns to normal. The bars disappear from his windows, letting light fill his room again. 

He can breathe again.

There’s a light knocking from the door before it opens and Mrs. Sedwig enters his room. She babbles cheerfully to him, like always, sounding all excited about the news while bringing clean towels and a new bowl of water to him. Adam doesn’t listen to a word she says, although he hears everything, and when she leaves the room and politely wishes him good night as she needs to hurry to the train to Edwardstown where she would spend her two free days at her sisters and leaves, he doesn’t say a word after her. He only stares outside over the sea of roofs to the far distance, towards five pipes and tall red brick tenements around it. Black smoke still pours out of the chimneys even factory workers’ work day is surely over by now. It will take at least one more hour before it will disappear.

It feels now so far away. But still he remembers.

He looks over his shoulder and gazes around his room.

He’s living a dream. He shouldn’t complain even his life seems to be ripped away from him in a matter of a spoonful of a soup. This is what he always dreamed of!

He turns his face back towards the town and closes his eyes. He inhales deeply.

He does remember.

From early morning to late afternoon air smelled of rotten eggs mixed with acid soapy sense. It made your cloths smell like rotten eggs and soap. It made even your food taste like rotten eggs with soap. But you got use to it. At least you didn’t mind if your eggs were rotten for real. But it was his reality once. 

His old world. The Soap Town.

In that life their home was in the third tenement to the east from Bob and Bubble’s Soap Factory, on the seventh floor, apartment 35. It was hardly bigger than his current room. Maybe even smaller. But he thought then it was the best place in the world, after Jenkinson’s candy store and Mama Gabrielle’s garden of course.

He sighs again.

Mama Gabrielle taught him to sing. She also taught him how to punch those bully boys from the Hully Street. He loved Mama Gabrielle.

So much.

The sky outside turns into purple and Adam leaves the window.

He is so tired so he puts out the gas lamp on this night stand and hops to his bed, ignoring the dangerous crack it makes when he lands on it to his stomach. He grabs the pillow and buries his head in it. But a second later he lifts his head up again.

There’s something under the pillow.

He takes the object to his right hand and pulls it out of the cover. When he sees it a sad smile ghosts on his lips. 

It’s a book.

A book by J.W. Clinton and it tells a story about an orphan boy who joins in the circus and how he finds his place in the world. It’s a beautiful and encouraging tale, how a small can become a big, and he loved the book as a child. 

And to be honest…he still does. 

He gently pets the well-worn paper cover. He remembers when his dad brought him the book without the covers. With the help of his mother, he made and drew a new one and his father glued the pieces together at his work. That evening his father read the first chapter to him as a bedtime story. 

It’s one of the happiest childhood memories he has.

Listening to his loving father when he read to him in their small bedroom, while behind the open window the sky darkened over the Soap Town and stars appeared behind those five chimneys and street dogs barking in the distance.

He felt safe then - under his parents’ unconditional love.

And now he wishes that they had never left there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm so sorry it took this long to update. It wasn't my intention but let's say that when both your laptops decides to resign almost at the same time and you lose your memory stick with the updated version of the story, you might...well...lose your inspiration. Plus we had a big renovation in the summer so...
> 
> But here it is - the chapter two. Hopefully you like it.

The country road is rough and bumpy, and their phaeton sways unsteadily every time when hitting to a bigger rock or pit. It had rained days damaging the soft surface but today the sun is shining on almost cloudless sky. Open sides of the carriage let fresh early summer air caress Adam’s face, and he draws in the sweet scent of last spring blossoms. He squints his eyes when beams of light filter through big maple trees which lines the road, and for the very long time he feels content.

It’s so beautiful here near the valleys.

It’s the last weekend before the end of Adam’s theatre school. For real, the term won’t end for weeks but next Wednesday, after the final show, he doesn’t have any obligations to his school. Although, he has agreed to meet Lawrence a couple of times to have voice instructions, but otherwise, it’s all over for him.

Finally, he thinks.

Unfortunately, he sighs in a same breath.

The end of school will mean the end of his freedom, at least in a way he knows it now. Adam tries his best to ignore the though from invading his mind, but sometimes it’s hard. He has still a lot to digest.

“You ok?

The grip around his right arm tightens lightly and Adam swallows his snort.

“I’m ok. Just a bit tired,” he whispers and turns his head to see Aldred next to him.

Aldred looks back sheepishly and presses his cheek on Adam’s shoulder.

“You sure?” he asks slightly worried and pets Adam’s inner bicep with his freckled fingers. Adam stays quiet for a while. He stares Aldred’s fingers and the man’s gentle touch makes him shiver – in a good way. 

He gives Aldred a small smile.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

His answer seems to please Aldred as he lifts his head up and moves so that their lips are just few inches apart.

“Give me a kiss then.”

The kiss is quick and clean but Adam is surprised how it still felt good. He still hasn’t butterflies in his stomach, but not stones either.

The rest of the ride Aldred purrs and cuddles close to Adam, while Adam tries his best to answer his need of closeness and affection, and to have moments to think to himself. He had promised to his father to behave, or at least until the marriage agreement is signed, but he has also promised himself to give this a chance. It doesn’t help them, least him, if he is sulking over the situation. He’s a good actor and this is the role of his lifetime. He just needs to adjust his mind into this romance stage. And maybe, one day, he loves Aldred for real.

Adam plants a kiss on Aldred’s head and nuzzles his hair. Aldred lets out a love sigh and Adam knows he did just a right thing. It’s not that they are much different in the end. As appearance one could think they were brothers with their well-cut strawberry blond hairs, straight noses, freckles and tall man’s figures; however Aldred is shorter than Adam. Both of them are sons of a good family, loving theatre and music. And despite of his rough words and opinions, Adam feels that Aldred still has a good heart.

How he could have annoyed him so much earlier, Adam wonders. But then Aldred says him something and he remembers at least one reason again – that whistling side note in his voice.

Soon their phaeton stops alongside a wooden fence. Behind it spreads a large field full of meadow flowers, and here and there a single big white oak tree stands up from the swaying blue, green and yellow ocean. The slope descends gently into the valley where it meets a river. Other side of the river another hill goes up, spotted also by another colourful meadows and fields. And if Adam looks further away, the lines of hills seem to go on forever.

He sighs in awe.

They step out from the carriage and Aldred hurries him to follow him. He grabs Adam’s hand and leads him, almost drags him through a small gate to a narrow path between the fields. His excitement is some way cute in Adam’s opinion and he fights back to laugh when Aldred dashes around raring to show him the flowers he recognizes. A particular flower grabs Aldred’s attention and he picks it up. It has yellow petals and brown centre, like a small sun flower. A black-eyed susan he tells Adam, and that it shouldn’t be blooming until mid-summer. He knows it because he used to pick them up, actually rooted out with his late grandma, a silly old lady, who made an extract from them to prevent flu or help with ear aches.

Aldred watches silently the flower in his fingers and a moment Adam is sure he sees sadness, maybe a flash from a distant memory in his eyes. He strokes gently Aldred’s back. Suddenly Aldred’s face lights up again and he turns to Adam. He lifts the flower and places it behind Adam’s ear. The smile on his face is genuinely happy, and when he takes Adam’s hand again to his own and leads them towards a clearing near one of the oak trees, Adam feels a twitch of conscience deep inside of him.

It is not that Aldred isn’t trying at all. He has come to see Adam’s last two performances, and both times he and Alice has entered into a dressing room full of fresh flowers and a card on Adam’s dressing table with a love poem. And this, a picnic in the valley, the flower, everything would be the most romantic act anyone has ever done to him.

If only they were alone.

“May I help you, Sirs?”

The question is just rhetoric as Wilkinson’s butler Oscar, who has followed behind them all the way from the carriage, puts down the basket he had been carrying and starts to roll opens a woollen blanket. A BRITISH butler, not a coloured Aldred had emphasized to Adam when he had first seen the man. He had served Wilkinson family since old Mr. Wilkinson was a school boy and the family was proud of having him, as they said, a real professional butler from the Old England. And for sure this over 70-years-old servant was well-trained! Adam watches him in respectful admiration when with one swift, professional move Oscar spreads the blanket to a perfect, flat spot near an oak tree and picks up four perfectly round rocks nearby to place one to each corner of the rug. Hardly a minute later there’s a flawless picnic setting in front of them; glasses, plates, food and a bottle of expensive-looking sparkling wine - everything placed like they should. It’s obvious that he has done this multiple times, and it makes Adam wonder if Aldred has been here with all of his dates.

“Thank you Oscar. You can leave us alone now.”

The old servant nods to Aldred and walks away. He stops under the shadow of another, smaller white oak tree nearby and makes himself as invisible as he could. But it doesn’t mean he isn’t ready when needed again.

Aldred takes a last look at Oscar before a wicked smile spreads on his face and he leads Adam to the picnic blanket. He giggles when he pulls Adam down with him, almost causing Adam to lose his balance and land on him. It might have been the whole point but just in time Adam’s instincts kick back. He finds his balance and twirls his body in the air so that he lands safely on his butt right next to Aldred. Disappointment flashes on Aldred’s eyes momentary but he keeps up his happy face.

“Now, my love, let’s take some wine,” Aldred says cheerfully instead and breaks out the bottle. He hands Adam a glass before pouring bubbly, yellow liquid in it. When Aldred has filled his own glass he clinks it against Adam’s and they both take a sip from their own ones. The wine tastes heavenly. It’s rich with flavour, and the sparkling bubbles tickle the roofs of their mouths. Adam closes his eyes briefly and draws in warm air. He feels relaxed; he hasn’t been this laid-back for ages. But still something nags at him. And he knows what it is. He glances at Oscar who seems to just stand by the tree and watch to other direction, towards the valley. Even though, it looks like he is not paying any attention to them, he surely is all ears. Always ready to answer to their needs. And when the servant turns his head, like sensing that he’s being watched, Adam fixes his eyes back to his glass and frowns. It shouldn’t bother him this much but it’s against Adam’s nature to ignore people around him.

Even servants.

A whistling giggle pops Adam out of his thoughts.

“Oh, you look so cute when you wrinkle your face like that.” Aldred coos and leans his head on Adam’s shoulder.

Adam sips his wine and rubs his cheek against Aldred’s head. He glances again quickly at the lonely servant, and before thinking any further, his tongue betrays him and the words escapes from his lips.

“Shouldn’t we offer Oscar some?”

Suddenly the atmosphere around them cools down and he cringes. Aldred sits up and Adam knows what he is going to say before he hears it.

“Offer him what? Wine?” Aldred hisses in surprised shock, enough loud that Adam’s sure Oscar could hear it. Adam looks quickly at the old butler but he hasn’t moved from his spot a bit. He forces his eyes to meet Aldred’s again.

“I thought it would be nice to..well…“ Adam mutters and nods towards Oscar, “as he stands there alone while we’re eating and drinking here.”

The man next to him is not thinking the same.

“But he’s a butler. A bloody servant! It’s his damn job!” Aldred shouts now, his eyes staring Adam like he had just asked them to kill the man or something. It annoys Adam as he was just being kind. Oscar is a servant yes, but he is still a human.

Mrs. Sedwig always eats Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners with them on the same table.

“A thought, that’s all. Just wanted to be nice,” he tries to calm down raging Aldred.

Instead he gets back a dirty look.

“Oh well, let’s ask our friend then,” Aldred mocks him, emphasizing the word ‘friend’, “Oscar!”

“Please don’t,” Adam pleads him when he sees Oscar’s head turning to their direction, but Aldred waves his hand in rejection.

“Shut up!” he snaps at Adam and calls for Oscar again

Immediately, the butler steps out of the shadows of the tree and hurries towards them.

“Oscar, do you want some sparkling wine and strawberries?”

The old butler freezes on his tracks and for a second he looks confused. Then his professionalism kicks in and he says with a thick accent,

“No. I’m fine, Sirs.”

Aldred gives Adam a meaningful side glance.

“Ok. You may go then.”

Something indescribable flashes on Oscar’s dark green eyes but he keeps his expression still and nods to Aldred. Then he twirls around and walks back to his spot under the oak tree.

Adam looks after Oscar with apologetic look on his face. But Oscar doesn’t turn around to see it.

“See,” Aldred rips his attention away from the old man and pokes Adam with his forefinger, “he knows his place and best you remember yours too. I understand your sympathy towards him but you’re not a trash anymore. You’re not one of them – and actually, never were. Your blood is still purer than theirs, even being once a Soapy boy. Remember that.”

After his short, sardonic speech Aldred empties his glass and fills it again. The wild look on his eyes is new to Adam and it intimidates him a bit. This is a side of Aldred, heated Aldred he hasn’t seen before, and for a moment it terrifies him. And also annoys because his husband-to-be had just described the younger him as a trash.

Still after 6 years and the economic boost of their family, a family which just two generations ago was almost stepping up from the upper middle class to upper class but fell into deep poverty because of one stupid decision, Adam still is reminded of how Aldred as a kid didn’t like him because he thought he was dirty and smelly. A trash. A Soapy boy.

And he has to marry that dick.

Despite his ugly words and the forming storm inside of Adam’s head, Aldred mood seems to have switched back to cheerful lovebird mode. He moves again near to Adam and leans to nuzzle the crook on his neck.

“You smell so good,“ he whispers in a loaded voice against Adam’s neck and plants there a kiss, “I can’t wait to have you in my bed.”

The words shouldn’t make Adam feel like this, but it’s like a giant lightning had just stroked right in the middle of his forehead and he tenses. And it doesn’t help at all that, when saying the last bit, Aldred’s hand travels near Adam’s crotch making Adam draw in his breath.

If there’s a hell on the Earth, he is right there at the very moment.

“He sees us,” Adam squeaks in panic and tries to move Aldred’s hand away while glancing at Oscar’s direction.

Aldred just scowls at him.

“So what? He won’t care. He just looks else if he needs to,” he says annoyed and yanks his hand off from Adam’s grip. He places it back between Adam’s legs and strokes his inner thigh. It takes all Adam’s self-control not to bunch and yell at him right there. But he wouldn’t survive from his father’s anger if Mr. Wilkinson called him to ask why Aldred’s nose is broken and bleeding blood.

“Please. Stop,” he pleads instead and decides to change his tactic.”You shouldn’t tease yourself…my love.”

The very second he breathes out the endearment Aldred stops his hand on Adam’s groin and looks at him in a surprised wonder. Adam is about to blow a breath out in relief but it gets stuck in his throat. Aldred is staring at him now, his eyes large and mouth popped wide open like he is seeing a step dancing and joggling hippo in front of him. 

Adam’s body tenses once more.

It takes a while before Aldred find his tongue back.

“You called me… your love,” he sighs finally, fondly, tears already gleaming in the corners of his eyes.

Adam’s heart clenches. Yes he did say that, even he didn’t mean it, and for the second time during that day he feels like an asshole.

“Oh, my sweet love, my gorgeous Ginger. I knew you thought about me like that.”

Adam squints a little his eyes when he hears Aldred’s nickname to him, but then the smaller man grabs him around his chest and pulls him into a so tight hug that air escapes from his lungs and his eyes pops open.

“I’ll wait Ginger, ‘till our wedding night. And then…oh my love, then I will give you a ride of your life!  
And it was about time you called me your love. Why were you holding it back this long?”

Still holding his arms around Adam Aldred plants little kisses on Adam’s neck, slowly travelling up along his jaw line to the corner of his mouth. When he researches to his lips, Adam feels obliged to answer to it. They kiss long and tenderly, but the feeling is one-sided. Adam can’t help it. He had tried his best to build up his feeling towards his future husband but it needs more time.

And so much more patience.

But still he doesn’t feel he had totally failed. He already has sacrificed his big dream to make this work.

He burnt Mr. Castle’s invitation.

It would be a lie to say it was an easy thing to do. For hours he brooded and weighted risks; could he still meet Mr. Castle and not get caught. But he eventually chose against it. So one night he tiptoed to their sitting-room, when his parents had gone to bed, and to the fire place there. He inhaled the envelope, kissed it for the last time before throwing it to the still glowing embers. He forced himself to watch when the last bits of fire burned the invitation and fought back the urge to dive into the fire place to save it.

It was a test for him. And he passed it. Merely.

The play would have been last Friday. But instead seeing his idol to play, eating with him, feeling his hands on him and savouring that sweet taste of his lips, Adam cried his eyes out in his bedroom. But he didn’t leave his room. He was strong enough.

And now he is having a Sunday brunch with his husband-to-be, who has insulted him and thinks he loves him, and he doesn’t feel that strong anymore.

Slowly the atmosphere around them lightens again and they eat their packed brunch in good appetite.  
The sun is shining warmly above them and a gentle wind caresses their cheeks. In no time they both lay on the blanket, satisfied, and telling the funny stories and rumours about teachers and students of Reddington, both current and former.

It feels good to laugh together.

“They are such divas sometimes! New Yorkers. Pff.”

Adam chuckles when Aldred imitates one difficult actress his working with in his latest production. He waves his hands wildly in the air, huffing dramatically while repeating the actress’ favourite line ‘No, not good’. The tone of his voice is high-pitched diva-like and he does it so well that Adam can easily imagine her in front of his eyes. A curvy woman with strong eye make-up, wearing a long black dress and biting everybody’s head off around her - ‘No, that’s not good. No, I won’t do it. No. No’.

Suddenly Adam notices that, when doing the imitation, Aldred’s voice doesn’t have that particular whistling side note it usually has. But to his surprise it actually bothers him more than his normal speech. If he thinks about it, he hadn’t even noticed or reacted to that hiss Aldred’s normally does for some while. It’s an eye-opening moment for him and it makes him feel both relieved, and especially, happy.

So there is a possibility he will get used to it.

The thought lightens his heavy heart and the smile on his face spreads even wider.

“So, Ginger. What are your plans after the school…or the summer?”

There’s a certain glint in his eyes and a particular tone in his voice, which means he’s waiting for a specific answer, but Adam misses them both. Later he would regret that he didn’t listen what Aldred really asked him.

“I would like to move to New York.”

A moment Aldred just stares at him, his eyes blinking in surprise. “Oh. Why?” he asks lightly, but he stirs his eyes a bit and there’s an almost unnoticeable sharp edge in his glare – like he is warning Adam to choose his next words carefully. Adam doesn’t.

“Broadway, of course!” Adam announces instead, and the town with long roads and tall buildings emerges in front of his eyes. He walks on a broad road, lined up theatres on the both sides and people greet him happily, asking him to join into their groups. No, he will put up his own theatre group; full of young, handsome talents. He will be the star of it. The crowd will love him, the directors will praise him and the papers will write about him. He will be asked to a parties and events. He will sing the National Anthem in the 4th of July and perform to the President. He will be asked to Fort Lee in New Jersey, maybe by Kalem Company, to act in motion pictures, which will be as successful as “The Sleigh Belle” or Méliès’ “A Trip to the Moon”. And he will buy an apartment in one those high-class buildings and have parties there with his famous friends. 

In the city of dreams. In the city of new starts.

But the sour comment draws him out of his dream world.

“I hate New York.”

Few seconds Adam is lost. The comment doesn’t make sense in his mind and he is about to object but then he remembers again who and where he is and asks Aldred why. 

‘I just hate it. It’s too crowdie and dirty’ is the only answer he gets back from Aldred.

Adam thinks a moment. He wants to argue, but to avoid more conflicts he eventually decides to let it be. 

“Or we could move to New Jersey…” he suggests instead, “somewhere near Fort Lee. I could become a motion picture actor.”

Aldred scowls at him.

“Honey, you don’t have the look or the body,“ he states annoyingly frankly and Adam is not sure should he be offended. “You can act for sure and you have a good voice, but for the pictures, you are too…you don’t have the edges or the flexibility needed.”

“But I can sing,” Adam defends himself but it only makes Aldred burst into a loud laughing.

“You sing? In motion pictures?“ Aldred mocks him between his chuckles and looks at Adam amused. It makes Adam frown even deeper.

“You never know,” Adam mutters while turning his glance up in the sky. Small grey clouds have appeared above them - it could rain soon. “They might invent a way to have voice with it soon. But anyway, it’s just a dream. Yet.”

“What about me then?”

The sudden gentleness in Aldred’s voice wears Adam’s irritation off and enthusiasm fills his mind again. He mocked him yeah, but maybe it wasn’t that serious after all. He turns his upper body so that he can talk to Aldred better.

“You follow me of course!“ he explains enthusiastic. “You could…or we could produce a show together. I could sing – I could be a singing presenter. I would introduce the next act and performers. There could be theatre, music shows, comedy, romantic acts, jugglers, magicians, dancing sausage dogs, burlesque danc..”

Aldred cuts him in the middle.

“Burlesque?!” he hisses angrily and glares at Adam. “God, do you really think that I would let my husband act in some trashy Vaudeville act? Not to mention produce one myself! Are you out of your mind?! Who do you think I am? Some low Irish scumbag? I will be one of the richest men in this country and you ask me to produce filthy prostitute show? Never! I would be a laughing stock.”

His mouth open, Adam stares raging Aldred in shock. Who does he think he is?

“For god sake Aldred,” Adam shouts at him back, his eyes now flaming in frustration, “if I want to join in a Vaudeville group, I will. You just have to deal with it!”

He just has to deal with it, Adam thinks to himself. Aldred just cannot say to him what he can do and what he cannot. He’s a free man. But even though he gazes straight into Aldred’s eyes to make his point clear, Aldred has not even blink an eye. Instead his eyes reflect amused mockery. 

“Hah!” Aldred scoffs at him again, and in an eye blink, Adam loses the control over the situation. 

“I don’t need to deal with anything else than your stupidity,” Aldred spats and his stare at Adam darkens. “When we are married, you listen and do to what I tell you to do. I will not let you to dirty my family’s name. MY reputation! Besides, you don’t have a choice. Without me, you would end up in the street because I won’t give you a dime if you decide to walk away from this deal. It would ruin your father’s businesses. You know that yourself.”

The words hit hard on Adam and he feels how the ground under him suddenly disappears. He feels how he is falling down, down into thick darkness.

“You owe to us. You – Adam - owe to me.”

Adam hardly hears the last words but they still invade his mind and drum against his ears. He breathes heavily, trying to stop the tears forming in his eyes because the sad and ugly truth is that Aldred is right.  
His family owe to Wilkinsons. 

But is it right to make him suffer from it?

More grey clouds gather to the sky when they return to the carriage in silence, and they merely make it to it before the sky breaks down. For a long time they just sit and watch outside while the rain lashes the world around them and the coachman hurries the horses. The air is now cooler than earlier, and Adam lifts higher the woollen blanket on them.

He hears a small voice next to him.

“I’m sorry Ginger. I’m sorry that I yelled at you. But you made me yell at you. Don’t do that again. You understand?”

Adam stays quiet, but he nods for the understanding.

It seems to be enough, as Adam feels the man next to him getting into a more comfortable position. It doesn’t take a long time before he hears soft snoring and feels a body pressing on his side and a head on his shoulder. Adam sighs and gives a side-way glance at Aldred, who has fallen asleep.

Adam is thankful for that. Now there are no more possibilities for Adam to ruin this trip.

He had thought it so wrong. He is never going to be the boss in this relationship and never will be. He has to obey his future husband, get his own ideas approved by him, and be the one to stand behind his man. And maybe someday, if he´s lucky, Aldred sees him as equal.

He sighs and looks outside where the rain has calmed down into the grey drizzle. And a lonely tear escapes from his eye.

Suddenly the coachman lifts his right hand up and greets someone in front of them. Adam stretches his neck, carefully not to wake sleeping Aldred, and tries to see who is there. But Oscar blocks his view.

The carriage stops and Adam can hear now a distant rustling, the voice of wheels hitting the gravel road. A moment later he sees first an old brown working horse and then the carriage it is pulling. He recognizes it quickly as a game cart.

The hunter drives his two-wheeled cart carefully past their carriage. When glancing at the man, Adam sees two dead ducks piled on the seat next to him. He moves his eyes behind the man, to a box on the backside, where a pair of deep black eyes caught Adam’s glance. A retriever stares back at him, his head low and the lines of water rolling down his short golden fur. There’s an instant connection between them, even though, it lasts only seconds before the dog and the carriage is out of Adam’s sight. 

But he had recognized himself there.

He is that dog and the dog is him; two servants sitting quietly next to their owners, ready to obey their next orders, waiting submissively the words which would free them from their duty.

Trapped in their lifelong bonds.

***

Three days has past from that day trip in the valleys and it’s finally the day of the final play.

The theatre hall is almost full again, but Adam saw that most of the audience was their teachers and school friends and it relaxes him. He doesn’t need to impress anyone anymore but it also gives him a boost to do his best one more time.

If only he could avoid seeing beaming Aldred in the front row…

The second part is just about to start and he has approximately 5 minutes left to correct his outfit and make-up. His costume is fine and he just re-powdered his face but his wig is giving him a small headache. One hair tuft sticks out in a wrong direction, almost upward, and he just cannot get it down. 

Adam sighs frustrated and glances around the dressing table. He needs grease but where it is…

“I’m disappointed.”

Startled, Adam jumps up on his spot and twirls around. He hadn’t heard anyone coming and his heart is pounding wildly from the surprise of the sudden voice. But more astonished he is to see Mr. Castle leaning to the door post.

”You let me hang,” the man says accusingly while his eyes are piercing Adam. “I waited for you almost two hours in my dressing room but you didn’t show up. I had to pay extra to Henry for keeping him reserved that time in front of the theatre. And then I had to send him to beg my apologies that I missed my reservation in Theo’s.“

The intensity of Mr. Castle’s glance seems to deepen even two more levels as he straightens up and looks at Adam now under his eye brows. When he speaks again, his voice is low and threatening.

“You cost me unwanted rumours.”

And this wouldn’t, Adam thinks sarcastically, but still panic creeps into his guts and he gulps visibly. He is about to babble his apologies, when on a wicked smile spreads on Mr Castle’s amused face.

“I liked that. You aren’t as easy as I thought. It makes my victory even sweeter.”

God damn Adam could bunch that man, if he wasn’t too relieved to find out he was just messing around. He turns back to a mirror to correct his wig.

“Mr. Castle, you shouldn’t be here,” he hisses quietly and right then the stubborn tuft finally gives up and bends down. Adam gives himself a satisfied look. “People might start to talk.”

“James,” the man with most gorgeous figure Adam has ever seen corrects him and continues like he didn’t heard a word just said to him, “I renew my invitation. And this time, I won’t be accepting any cancellations.”

“But my father will find out. He’ll kill me!” Adam whines and cast one last desperate glance on James as he rushes past him to return to the stage. The lady is already calling for his lover.

“I have my ways,” James shouts after hurrying Adam and watches as that perfect ass, he is going to see naked soon, disappears up the stairs with his beautiful owner.

I have my ways, he repeats lower, a wolfish grin spreading on his handsome face. He greets a familiar janitor, who is carrying a bucket of white roses to Adam’s dressing room, and leaves to make the necessary preparations.

***

A couple days later Adam’s father knocks on his son’s door.

“I just got an interesting call. You might want to stop that and listen to me.”

Adam closes the book on his hand and places it back under his pillow. When his father has his full attention he continues,

“The owner of the Deacon Hall, Mrs. Pollock – the grant lady of theatre, you know her – she just called me to say that they would like you to audition to them. There’ll be a Shakespeare production they think you might fit in just perfectly. I already told her you will come, so I won’t listen to any objections from you. The driver will pick you up tomorrow at 2 pm. Oh, and you need to cancel the meeting with Mr. Dalton. This is more important. Get yourself ready. I meet you in the library in five minutes.”

And with that Mr. Lambert twirls around and leaves his son staring after him.

Adam didn’t get a chance to say to his dad that Aldred had other plans for him; he would have a main role in a play Aldred was going to produce next autumn. But again this was a Shakespeare production in the well-respected Deacon Hall, and Mrs. Pollock herself had asked Adam to come. There was no way Aldred could stop him to take the part if he gets it.

Glancing to the clock, Adam gets up from his bed and straightens his shirt. If he’s lucky, he still gets to sleep full 8 hours, but knowing his father, he fears it will come a long night for him.

He’s right. Just before midnight, after 3 hours of exhausted rehearsing and preparation, Adam finally drags himself into his room and collapses to his bed.

He falls into asleep instantly, his cloths still on.

***

Next day he stepped in a Ford, a phaeton -like vehicle without horses, which took him the Deacon Hall. Or he thought so until they passed its beautiful Beaux Arts -styled facade and the driver stopped in front of a red bricked building a little further away. He told him it was an old theatre which was now used for rehearsals or especially for auditions. The driver – he had introduced himself as Henry - had led him inside and taken him to a tall, thin man called Mr. David, who was the director of the play. Mr. David had welcomed him and told him what they wanted him to do. He had quickly greeted also the grant lady herself, Mrs. Pollock, before he was led to the backstage.

And now he is standing on the stage with four other actors.

“He is a Roman, no more kin to me than I to your highness; who, being born your vassal, am something nearer.”

They have been asked to perform the tent scene in a Shakespeare’s romance called Cymbeline. Adam’s playing Imogen, the daughter of Cymbeline, The King of Britain, who had fled from the court disguised as a young man to avoid to be murdered by her evil step-mother. In a tent scene she is finally revealing her true identity to his father and others.

It’s not any way special that he, a man, plays the part. In Shakespeare’s time men played all the female characters, even though, nowadays people would think it silly. But producer, whose name Adam hadn’t heard yet, had insisted this and Mrs. Pollock had said to him, as Mr. David had told to Adam, that they would sell it as a modern play. People would come to see it just to see a man in a dress.

It doesn’t bother Adam. This is not a comedy, and if people make fun of him, it just shows their lack of culture knowledge. Even Aldred couldn’t complain. And maybe, Adam thinks, if he has something of his own from the start of their marriage, Aldred might relax and let him choose his works more freely.

But as it’s just an audition, Adam wears just a simple cloak to get in the role.

Mr. David, who covers Mrs. Pollock’s old confidant Mr. Richards as Cymbeline, and Adam stand aside as discussion about Imogen continues among the others. Adam glances around but doesn’t see what he’s looking for and his mood sinks a bit. When he stepped in the car today, a thought had popped in his mind that the audition had been Mr. Castle’s plan to meet up. But all his hopes were washed away by the time he had been asked to wear the cloak and step on the stage. And there was no sight of Mr.Castle. 

It was stupid to even think of that, he reproaches himself. His father knows these people, not to mention old Mr. Wilkinson. It would have been more than foolish – absolutely suicidal – thing to do. 

Just impossible.

Suddenly silence falls over the hall and Adam flinches when he’s brought back to reality by a single cough next to him. He feels everyone’s eyes on him as they wait him to say his line. The pause has been too long.  
He quickly draws air into his lungs.

“My boon is, that this gentleman may render of whom he had this ring,” he demands while watching accusingly Iachimo, who is wearing her lover’s ring.

“What’s that to him?”

A man emerges behind the others and Adam realises that he hasn’t paid much attention to him since now. Along the scene he had been just standing aside, in the shadows, not saying a word yet. But now his voice makes Adam’s breathe hitch. And when the man steps forward, letting a spot light light his handsome face, Adam’s skin breaks out in goose bumps.

HE is here. The thought pounds inside his head, his inner self triumphing over the fact that HE really is here. As Posthumus, as Imogen’s lover. His lover.

And at the same time cool shivers run along his spine. This is so dangerous. They could get caught.  
But he hasn’t ever been this turned on too.

Adam swallows hard when Posthumus, Mr. Castle casts his eyes on him, and his legs become a mass of melting butter.

The rest of the audition is a real struggle to Adam as he tries to act normally while throwing himself into arms of his character’s lover and rejoicing their reunion. He’s on the edge of over-acting because all these feelings are so true, and on the edge of panic when he tries to hide them from the others.

When the scene is finally over, Mr. David thanks them all with a hand shake – except Mr. Castle to whom he just nods- and drops down from the stage. Adam and the other actors stand in line and watch as he walks to Mrs. Pollock. He talks quietly with her a moment before writing something down on his papers.

And all that time Mr. Castle’s fingers secretly stroke his ass through the fabric.

He could curse him and bless him at the same time.

Torturing moments later Mr. David lifts his glance up from his papers and says loudly:

“Ok, thank you all again. Mrs. Pollock has made her decision and I would now ask Mr. Wood and O’Reilly to follow me to the office downstairs. You two, I’m sorry. Good luck with other auditions. And then...” Mr. David turns his eyes in the direction of Adam and Mr. Castle, “James and young Mr. Lambert, please stay there. Ma’am wants to share a few words with you two - about the relationship of your characters. It’s lacking something, but we both see potential there too.”

Adam’s sure he saw a snide glint on Mr. David’s eyes and a slight grin on his oval face but he could have also imagined them. But still heat rises on his cheeks and he feels like everybody’s eyes are on him again. And it doesn’t help at all that suddenly Mr. Castle pinches his buttock, making him bite his tongue to avoid from yelping aloud.

While Mr. David is leading other actors out of the hall and Adam sucks his aching tongue, Mrs. Pollock stands up from her seat and walks slowly towards the stage. Her clear bluish grey eyes are glued on Adam as she evaluates him from top to toe. The sharp look in her eyes makes Adam nervous; it’s like she could see through his walls and see all his secrets. Adam straightens up and tries to look as cool as he can.

A knowing smile spreads on Mrs. Pollock’s round face and she stops right in front of the stage. She moves her glance at Mr. Castle.

“James,” she says dearly and nods towards Adam, “I trust you can handle this one yourself?” 

Mr. Castle’s takes a few steps forward and bows to her in old fashion way.

“Of course, m’ lady. I’ll take good care of him.”

“I’m sure you will,” Mrs. Pollock smiles and takes a last glance at Adam before she walks away. Adam stares after her, totally taken aback by the sudden change in the situation. 

It doesn’t take long before Adam feels strong arms around him and warm body pressing on him.

“So my dear Imogen,” a deep voice behind him whispers to his ear, “do you want to show your man how much you have missed him?”

“She’ll come soon,” Adam breathes out. Warm waves of euphoria go through his body and it feels so good to be in this man’s embrace. But at the same time his inner self is panicking over the possibility that someone might see them.

“She won’t. She owes to me,” Mr. Castle whispers sharply. His lips ghost near Adam’s ear and his warm breath feels good on his skin. Adam chews his lower lip and leans his head on a side when Mr. Castle plants kisses on his neck. 

“I have brought her such a fortune…” A kiss “…and pleasure…” Another kiss “…that she does what I ask her to do.”

A soft moan escapes from Adam’s mouth when Mr. Castle’s tenderly bites his neck, his hands now roaming greedily around the upper body of the younger man. 

Adam’s voice is one in despair.

“But Mr. David? He’ll tell my father.” 

“He owes to Ma’am,“ Mr. Castle just murmurs mysteriously and with a quick move he turns Adam around in his arms and their eyes meet. Something mischievous flashes in Mr. Castle’s face, but he only stares Adam while rocking them slightly. 

It’s a hell to Adam, because that small movement causes almost unbearable friction between his tights as Mr. Castle’s groin is rubbing against his.

Adam heart is pounding by the stirred desire, and he is already semi-hard – Mr. Castle surely feels it – and still that devil of a man isn’t doing anything to release it. He is spellbound under that deep, hypnotic glance, but also he is scared as shit. He cannot take the control over this act, not when his conscience is nagging him. But he isn’t married yet, not even officially engaged, and for real, he didn’t agree to both of them.

Still it doesn’t stop Adam feeling he is deceitful.

But if Mr. Castle is the one to make the first move, he cannot blame himself for the happening, can he? 

So he chooses to wait, even though, inside his is almost exploding from want and need, and he’s shivering. And yet Mr. Castle gazes at him with his dark eyes, like he is waiting for something.

Just do it, Adam yells inside of his head and stares back at Castle, as second by second, it comes harder for him to control himself. It’s unbearable to be this close of a body of his wet dreams, feeling his hands on your bottom and being so near those full, rosy lips. And by instinct Adam glances down at them, licking his own, and right there, the mouth in front of him stretches into a wicked grin. Strong hands grab Adam behind his head, and with a strong pull their lips are crashes together. 

Adam breathes in from the impact and surprise, and moans for satisfaction.

His conscience is still scolding at him, that Adam should stop and leave, but its words go to deaf ears. Because Adam craves this, he desires this…he really wants this. And when Mr. Castle’s hands find its way under his shirt, Adam finally gives in.

Every cell in Adam is screaming from extreme pleasure, and when Mr. Castle breaks their kiss and pulls him to the back stage, it’s like he’s walking in a dream.

“Come my beauty. We don’t have too much time.”

***

Damn, he might never catch a breath again.

He’s still sweating and panting, blood racing so fast in his veins that he could faint at any time, but God, he has never felt this sated.

The sex. It was so erotic, so intense – so consuming. Best he has ever had.

Adam moves to his side and the bed under him squeaks. He cringes. 

They just had sex on this bed. Even though they are in a room on the far corner of the hall way, it would be foolish to think nobody heard them.

But does it matter anymore?

Adam adjusts himself better, ignoring now the squeaking it causes. 

He lifts his eyes up and he sees James lying naked next to him, his upper body exposed under the blanket and a cigarette between his long fingers. He’s looking in a distance while he blows out white smoke. His hair messy and skin glowing from the thin layer of sweat he looks so painfully gorgeous and handsome, that Adam wants to cry.

A long time he just stares his lover, until the man finally damps his cigarette and turns to look at him. His beautiful eyes make Adam sight and he leans to meet James’ kiss. It’s tender and over too quickly. And when James opens his sweet mouth to speak, possibilities what he is going to say to him is swarming inside of Adam’s head. But never did he expect this. 

“Congratulations.”

Adam blinks his eyes in confused surprise and it takes a moment for him to understand what James said to him.

“For what?” he asks.

“For the engagement. The rumours about it are already spreading.”

Adam frowns. Yes, they have agreed to, but it’s not official yet. The paperwork has taken longer than expected to Adam’s delight, so in general, he is still a free man. The reality is then another story. But why he had to mention it now?

James lights up a new cigarette. Adam turns it down when he offers the cig to him.

“Relationships are for those who cannot afford being a single,” James says arrogantly and sucks in smoke. Adam feels how his heart is sinking.

“I have no choice,” Adam mutters and turns his eyes away from James. The man’s words hit him more he wants to admit to him.

“Everybody has a choice,” James corrects him softly and swipes a single hair on Adam’s forehead with his long fingers. “It is just do you choose to be the one who makes the decisions in your own life.”

“It’s not that simple,” Adam snaps out in growing annoyance. Forming tears prickles his eyes when he tries to stop them from falling. He is about to explain his situation with his father but James’ calm notion shuts him up. 

“It is.”

Despite his attempts to fight back tears escape from Adam’s eyes, and he wipes them off quickly. In the end it is that simple. He could choose not to marry Aldred; but would he ever have courage to face his father and say no?

James sighs next to him. 

“You have such a bright future ahead of you – a shame if you’re going to leave it behind now.” 

James puts his arm over Adam and pulls him into his embrace. Adam doesn’t resist. Instead, he puts his head on James’ chest and lets him stroke him lazily along his back and side. That and the steady heart beat against his ear eases his troubling mood.

“After your vows…Well…You know. Marriages – they are just tombs of love; full of soulless love without a hint of real feelings, except endless angst or numbness. After a year or two you will want to fuck anyone else except your own husband to feel again, to experience that thrill of feeling a new flavour on your mouth, feel the different kind of warmth against your body again. And that, my friend, is the truth.”

“You’ve never been in love.” Adam mutters quietly against James’ chest, but his words don’t escape from the man beside him.

“Oh, I have loved many…” James corrects him and his eyes glint in a way which makes Adam feel like he is one of loved ones. It lifts his mood a bit. “But I have always loved liberty better. Remember Adam - stars are single souls; they don’t need anything else but their own inner flame to make themselves shine.”

James leans down and his nose tip hovers above Adam’s lips and nose. It tickles every time the tip touches Adam’s dry lips, sending small electric shocks throughout his body. Before Adam notices their lips have melt into a kiss. 

This time it’s is deep and passionate, nothing like ones with Aldred. And for a second time, bad conscience invades Adam’s mind and he hesitates. But then James deepens their kiss even more and his good sense disappears right there. Their tongue are duelling now, their hands roaming greedy as the need for a second time drives their lust.

Then James slows it down by rolling over so that he is on the top of Adam and breaks the kiss. He lifts himself up into sitting position and moves his hips to cause enough friction to make Adam moan.

“So gorgeous body,” James whispers in a damned voice, his fingers trailing up and down Adam’s sides and chest, his hips never stopping its movement. Adam pants and moans under him, his hands clawing James’ tights and bottom. He already has a full erection, and if he had the power, he would dive in this Greek God sitting on him. Instead, he protests when James stops to slide his other leg between his. James leans to kiss him again. This time the kiss is dirty and quick, and before Adam realises, James’ lips and tongue are already travelling down his jaw line and neck, down to his chest, towards his stomach.

Adam purrs and throws his arms on top of him for surrender.

“It’s a shame I have so little time to explore it.”

It is said so quiet, against his skin that Adam almost misses it. He lifts his head up.

“What do you mean?” he asks and moans when the hot, wet lips meet his sensitive flesh. 

He doesn’t get the answer and the question faints in the air as the skilled mouth starts milking him in a steady rhythm into his new ecstasy.

***

The street lights are already on when the car curves in front of his home. Adam thanks Henry and steps out. The driver pays him one pitying look before he bids him a good night and drives away. Adam watches after him, long after he has disappeared around the corner. He won’t be seeing him again, he knows it by now, neither him nor James. And the world around him seems to darken one level.

Last moments in their love nest come back to his mind. After wild, lustful sex James had confessed he was going to London to perform in another Shakespeare production. He had just backed up Tony, who would play the part of Posthumus, but no one else but Mrs. Pollock and Mr. David knew about it. Too perfect opportunity to miss, James had grinned and winked his eye. Devastated over the news Adam had begged…he had fucking pleaded James to take him to London with him, but the man had just laughed and shook his head. No Adam, I won’t, he had said to him softly and caressed his cheek, making Adam cry and sigh from the tender touch at the same time. I don’t do commitments, he had continued, I’m a free soul. Adam had wanted to shout at him what about his soul he had just slaved, but had kept his mouth shut. 

In the end, it was he himself, who had let James use him. 

But then the man had said something that had made Adam’s stomach sink. The Old World was boiling, he had stated like it was the real excuse and that his stay in London might end before he have even passed the ending line out of his lips. It had just been matter of seconds that Adam would have put an act of a wife of a leaving soldier, but he had bitten his tongue just in time. He had seen the look on James’ eyes. The wait. The wait that Adam would act just like that and he could reject him again.

It had been a heart sinking moment for Adam. 

It was all just a play for James and Adam was just a name on his list of toy boys. Sluts.

James had again started to talk about London and its nightlife and so, while he had risen up from the bed to get his pants on the floor. But Adam hadn’t said anything back. He had felt so used, humiliated and inside he had been boiling, but he knew the game now. He had stood up too and begun to dress up, posing provokingly and daring, ignoring James’ sharp look on him. His action had taken aback the man and he felt weird satisfaction about it. 

A moment James had just gazed Adam, measuring him, his eyes time to time visiting south to Adam’s exposed skin, but then an accepting grin had formed on his face. 

He had stepped in front of Adam and cupped his head.

You sexy teaser, James had murmured and Adam had wanted to push his hands away, stating he didn’t care about him anymore, but it had been a lie. Because he still cared. He had savoured the touch on his skin while those clear gray eyes had been boring into his for the last time.

That touch still burns on his skin.

The last whispering words James had said to him before he had kissed him teasing long and said ma’am was waiting for him, had kept twirling around Adam’s head all the way to back home.

‘We are the demons of our own life’.

Adam huffs and shivers when a cool breeze blows past him, making him return back to present. He is already surrounded by demons – would it make difference if there was one more in his life?

But still the words make him think. Who in the end is responsible for his miserable life? Who could he really blame from it; the one who makes you to adapt or the one who tells you to adapt?

Or the one who adapts without a question?

With heavy thoughts, he turns on his heel and walks inside the house.

Hardly has he stepped over the doorstep when his mother already stands right next to him.

“How it went?” she asks him excited, but turns serious when she sees her son’s miserable face. She hasn’t seen him this miserable for a while.

“I wasn’t what they looked for. Where’s father?,” Adam mutters and his mother sighs compassionately and takes him to a hug. It takes Adam’s every strength not to burst into a cry right there in his mother’s arms.

“He’s still at the club. Oh my poor angel,” she soothes him but she already knows how to make him feel better.

“Adam, sweetie,” she whispers to his ear, “You got a letter. From Emma.”

She smiles when her son rockets up and eyes at her for reassurance that he had heard right. She looks at him in a way only mothers can.

She hides her amusement when his son, impatiently, presses her to know where the letter is - like it was from the President or the kind. She points the table next to the stairs to the upstairs, and the white envelope on it.

Adam almost runs there and grabs the envelope to his hands. He recognises the post stamp and Emma’s hand writing, and for the moment he forgets all his sadness and gloominess. 

It’s the highlight of the spring; the letter from Aunt Emma.

He grips the envelope open and pulls out the letter. He reads it, his lips moving silently, but he already knows what’s in it.

“She asks me to come again to Provincetown, to her summer house.”

As a kid he would have jumped up and down and screamed out the line. As a bit older he does almost the same.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of her.” His mother says to him and starts to babble about how Emma always said that Adam was a great help for her and how she had helped them during their worst times. She continues and her excited talking burbles against Adam’s ears but he has already zoned out. He holds the letter in front of him when, all of sudden, an idea pops in his head. He reads the letter from his great-aunt all over again and at the same time a master plan starts slowly form in his mind.

He might be able to escape from his agony after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no Sauli but don't worry. He will be on the next one.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? What do you think? Should I put my focus on this project or just press Delete button?
> 
> P.s. I'm sorry for any weird choice of words or bad grammar. English is not my mother tongue. Plus still no beta.


End file.
